Path to Happiness
by WitchInScarlet
Summary: In a world without Pietro and the Avengers, Wanda wants nothing more than to feel happiness. A witch offers her a lifetime chance she must take, to give up mutation forever. It will only make the world a safer place right? How wrong she was.


**The Curse.**

Wanda could still feel those injections pinching into her skin and flooding the liquid into her veins. It didn't take long until her body became limp and fell hard onto the concrete, scratching at her skin and opening cuts on her eyebrow. The doctors had care for what would happen when the injection had pathed into her, all that they cared for was making sure the animal had been tranquilised.

She was a monster.

The room had faded into black and the pain from her right brow decreased. Finally, she had been put to sleep only temporarily. Sleeping was one of the most painful things for Wanda, ever since the passing of her twin she faced nightmares and woke up to nothing but an empty space beside her. Though the twins used to sleep in separate bedrooms as all brothers and sisters do, Pietro knew when his sister was having a nightmare. In a matter of seconds, a flash of blue would scatter through the spaces dividing the Maximoffs' and he would be there to comfort her.

There was no longer a comfort blanket to ease her back to sleep, only faces of those that the media claimed had died the day the building collapsed. Though the media would often be deceiving, this time they spread facts about the rouged evil and dangerous woman. In a simple swift move of her scarlet orbs; parents had been crushed under bricks and wouldn't return home to their children, friends wouldn't be able to meet up for drinks after work and a mother would have had to lay her own child to rest. All because of /one/ woman.

Awaking from the terrifying slumber a metal collar was wrapped around her thin neck. It beeped red every couple of seconds. She found her arms unable to move, a straightjacket disallowing her from any activity following her lower half. A feeling of panic made its way up her body, never had she been in such a paralysed state. A shocking scream rose from her crimson coloured petals, crying out in surprise at her current situation.

She needed Pietro.

He would never come to save her again.

"/Help/." As the words left her mouth, the collar sent shocks through her body which felt like lightning bolts. Her body jerked in pain, the vibrating shocks jumping from each corner and it seemed to never stop. At every cry from the thunder bolts, the bleeper started to rapidly shock her. No one was coming to help her now, she was a monster and all monsters needed to be punished.

As her body desperately tried to collapse from the pain, tears fell from her hazel eyes as her brother's name echoed from her lips. The pain wouldn't stop, it was constant, and she felt as if death would take her at any second. Maybe that was where she belonged.

"Wanda, calm down." A voice she had no heard from many years whispered to her, the sweet accent focusing her away from the collar and onto him. It was difficult, very. She had to do what the voice had ordered but the pain was antagonising. If she were to carry on it was possible her soul would be reunited with the voice, but if she were to stop the pain then how long would she spend in this prison.

The words echoed to her again, almost begging. This time she followed through, no longer were screams leaving her mouth or her body crying out for help. She had settled into a state of almost a sleep, accepting her new fate. Wanda was no longer a threat. Her hexes would no longer hurt those around her. Her brothers name left her lips for the last time as she gazed at the cell around her. With many questions left unanswered, Wanda grew into her new state of acceptance.

Killers belonged locked up therefore this was why she was here.

Often, her only visitor would be a nurse. Through the holes of the cell, they would tranquilise her and Wanda only imagined that they would continue to put the drugs into her body to keep her alive and quiet. Whatever they did to her, she deserved.

Once, though the Witch was highly dosed so she could only recall certain features, she believed Tony Stark visited her. His brown eyes stared at the lifeless corpse, watching as Wanda tried to understand who her new visitor was. It was odd that there was no black fade after she spotted a figure, usually they would take her out within seconds of only seeing shoes. This time it was as if they were toying with her.

However she was still unaware of who the visitor truly was. Her thoughts were slow as was her vision. She had only one image in her mind and that was Pietro.

Days had turned into nights, and time was oblivious to her now. What the Witch didn't know what there was a rescue mission coming for her, Steve Rogers had released all those on his team who were secured in the raft and now it was her chance to be free.

If Wanda could have protested, she would have. If her soft voice could tell Rogers to stop meddling with her collar and straightjacket, she would have. But no words came out, a dull expression was set on her features and it couldn't be taken off. Wanda belonged to be caged just as every animal did.

One word left her full lips with barely a whisper, "Please."

Her hands were unconfined as was her neck. Clint Barton scooped the delicate female into his arms knowing far too well that she was unstable to walk. Her head rested on his shoulder, tired from the injections that had been placed inside her. Wanda wanted to feel safe but she couldn't. If a friend could place you in these cells, a friend could possibly put you back in.

The journey from the quinjet went by quickly for the Witch, all this time a feeling of unsteadiness roamed in her as she never allowed herself to sleep. She watched as the others did, Lang just happened to be next to her and snoring a little louder than Wanda had imagined. It barely bothered her, only made her feel a little more like she was home. Since they were children Pietro would snore. She sort of missed that noise in the background.

"And this is your room," Steve led Wanda into a room within the Wakanda palace. It was roaming with the colour gold, sprinkles of white covered the bed but the room seemed like it belonged to a stranger. Her hand glided on the satin sheets, touching now was only for objects and not people. Her hands had caused a lot of damage to the human race, never again would they hurt a soul.

"Goodnight Wanda," The Captain escorted himself out.

Though the room was one most would envy, Wanda still saw this as her prison. Because that's where monsters belonged.


End file.
